The Little Intruder
by NerdyJibbsOreo
Summary: A tiny stranger greets Gibbs at the door one night. Slibbs one-shot.


_A/N: This has been sitting on my computer for almost two months now. I'm finally accepting it and publishing it. _

* * *

Jethro Gibbs pulled up to his house in his truck, smiling when he saw Jack's car parked in his driveway. It had been it's near permanent spot for the last few months. It had been nice coming home to someone who he actually wanted to be there. It was nice carpooling to work and coming home from work with her on the days their schedules aligned. It was nice to have _her_.

He parked behind her—a move he had started early on when he still had to go to more effort to make her stay the full night. It wasn't a necessary move anymore, considering she'd been making herself right at home the last few months. She practically lived at his house now, and he was seriously considering asking her to just move in with him and make it official.

He got out of his truck and made his way to his front door, stopping in his tracks when he saw movement by the door. He squinted, glaring when he realized there was a fluffy little cat sitting on the front steps staring right at him. He walked a little more slowly, wary of the animal. Goodness knows he'd had his run ins with surprisingly spiteful and vicious cats at crime scenes. He'd never liked cats. They all were just tiny little assholes. Dogs were more understandable, but still not his pet animal of choice. Horses he understood.

The little creature just stared at him as he got closer, it's wide eyes annoyingly innocent. Cat was perhaps too mature of a word for it, it was more along the lines of a kitten. When he reached it he just stared down at it. There was no collar on it's neck and no indication that it had any owners or home. He wondered if it had wandered away from it's home or if it had been dumped.

"Shoo," he muttered, prodding it lightly with his foot, trying to get it out of the way so he could get inside more easily. It looked up at him with its blue eyes and let out a squeaky mewl. He grumbled, trying to brush off the cute sound, insisting to himself that it was annoying, hating that the word "cute" even popped in his head.

The minute he got the door open the little thing darted up and he realized it was going to try to get inside.

"No," he grumbled, glaring at it as he stuck his foot out, nudging the ball of white and gray away again.

He had a fun time squeezing himself through the door as he kept his foot out to keep it from getting in. He closed the door behind him, shutting out the squeaky meow sounds that sounded from the porch. He glared to himself, muttering under his breath. He hoped the thing would go away during the night and find a different home to attach itself to. It certainly wasn't welcome here.

"That you, Cowboy?" he heard shouted from upstairs.

"Yeah," he answered loudly.

He heard her walking and saw her her figure pop up at the top of the stairs.

"Hi," she greeted, beaming at him.

He couldn't help the smile he gave back—hers was infectious. She was always making him smile.

She made her way down the stairs to him and stood in front of him on the last step. He closed the distance and she put a hand on his chest and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her in for a proper kiss.

"Hi," he breathed back as they pulled apart.

"How was work?"

"Work," he said, laughing a little. "You?"

"Same."

"Ya weren't in your office when I swung by today," he said, his hand wandering a little lower down her back, his eyes glancing down to her lips and neck.

"You weren't in the bullpen when I swung by," she countered.

He arched an eyebrow at her and shrugged while she laughed.

"I was in Ducky's office for a couple hours today," she relented.

"Ah," he said, nodding knowingly. He knew how the man could talk, and he knew Jack wasn't as rude or abrupt as he was with the doctor.

"Were you and your team chasing suspects?" she asked dramatically, smirking at him.

"Chasin' empty leads."

"Ah," she said, nodding solemnly back.

He winced, his head turning slightly as he heard a small mew. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to her, relieved to see that she hadn't heard it and was distracted in her mission to unbutton the buttons on his polo.

"When'd you get back?" he asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows and grabbed his wrist, looking at his watch.

"Got home an hour and a half ago."

His lip quirked up at the way she said "home", feeling a surge of peace and happiness.

"Why?" she probed.

"Just curious," he said. "Nothin' unusal?" he questioned further, wondering if she knew about the stranger at the door.

"Unusual? Like what?" she asked, giving him a weird look.

He shrugged, trying to figure out a response that wouldn't make her more suspicious than she already was—but before he could a sound at the door distracted her.

"What was that?" she asked.

Some more tiny mews sounded, and he knew there was no way she wouldn't find out now.

"Cat," he muttered.

"There's a cat outside?"

He nodded and she made a face.

"I've never liked cats."

He felt relief wash over him at that statement. Thank heavens they were on the same page.

"It'll go, 'ventually," he said, his mind going back to her as his eyes lingered down her neck and to her cleavage. His hand slipped down and cupped her ass, to which she snorted in amusement. He leaned forward and kissed her neck, enjoying the way her arms slipped around him and her fingers ran through his hair.

He pulled apart and smiled at her, backing away a little before he was too distracted.

"Gonna grab a bite."

"There's some Mexican takeout in the fridge," she said, smacking his ass playfully when he turned around, making him smirk.

He walked through the living room and dining room into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering in. Then he heard a sound he was all too familiar with. One that made him wince like no other.

It was the sound he'd heard many women make when they saw a baby or something cute. It was the sound that made him dodge Diane and Stephanie for days because he knew exactly what they would drone on about. That weird, delighted squeal sound.

"You said it was a cat," she yelled from the door.

"It is a cat," he responded.

"No, it's a _kitten_!"

He rolled his eyes, grabbing the takeout container and transporting it to the table in the dining room.

"It's so cute," he heard her gasp. "Look at it's eyes!"

He went back through the living room and peeked through the entryway at the door, seeing her looking at the kitten through the window frame on the door. She put her hand on the doorknob.

"Nope," he said loudly.

"What?"

"No," he said firmly. "It's gonna keep comin' back if ya give it any attention."

"I just want to look at it more closely," she reasoned.

"No. No petting. No feeding. No nothing. Ignore it."

"Gibbs—"

"No," he maintained, turning around again and heading back to his food, not able to handle the puppy dog eyes she was giving him.

"Fine," she breathed out dramatically behind him. "You're right."

She followed him into the dining room and sat at the table with him as he began to eat his food. He chewed and listened as she retold some of Ducky's tales that the doctor had told her that day. He smiled as she was in the middle of one, content with the talking and stories as he ate. It was welcoming to hear Jack, as opposed to sitting alone in the deafening silence of a home that only held old, empty memories—along with him, his boat, and several bottles of bourbon.

It was just as welcoming to have her next to him in bed every night and morning. The last couple years that he had been sleeping in that bed again had been lonely.

"I love him," she sighed as she finished Ducky's story.

"Hope you're not gonna leave me for him," he chuckled.

"Oh God, no," she laughed. "I mean, he'd make a very gentlemanly companion, and he's fun to listen to...but no. He's not you."

He smiled at the statement, and the way she reached out and rubbed his arm.

He was a little surprised when she suddenly got up and stretched herself across his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'd be stupid to leave a catch like you," she mumbled, pressing her lips against his.

"Nah, you're the catch," he muttered against her lips, kissing her more deeply as he wrapped an arm around her hips and secured her head with his other hand. The kissing died naturally and she sighed contently.

"I'm gonna head to bed," she whispered, pecking him again before shifting off his lap.

"Tired?" he asked, glancing down at his watch with furrowed brows. It was earlier than she usually went up to bed.

"Didn't say I was gonna sleep," she said, turning her head and winking at him as she walked away. "You're certainly welcome to join me."

He abandoned his last few bites of food without hesitation, catching up to her and pulling her back against him, attacking her neck with his lips as she giggled.

* * *

He woke up in the middle of the night, reaching out for her, only to find emptiness beside him. He lifted his head up and opened his eyes, confirming that she wasn't there. He groaned and rolled onto his back, listening to hear if she was in the bathroom or wandering around. When all he could hear was silence, his paranoia started to kick in and he sat up, taking note of the time and his surroundings.

"Jack?" he called out quietly, waiting to see if he got a response.

When the silence ensued, he reached out and felt her side, noting it was cold. The clothes she'd been wearing earlier were still strewn on the floor. He grumbled and sat up, deciding to check and make sure she was okay. It wouldn't be the first time she had gone downstairs to do things on her phone or laptop, or crack open a psychology or romance book.

He groaned as he got up, his knee protesting the move. He located his boxers and pulled them on before he went to his closet and grabbed a pair of sweats and one of his hoodies.

When he got to the top of the stairs he instinctively reached for his hip when he realized the front door was cracked open—he growled, remembering he didn't have his gun on him. He grit his teeth, taking the stairs slowly, making sure to avoid all the creaks. He approached the door carefully and peered through the crack.

He felt his body relax, seeing the back of her head and body. She was sitting on the porch.

He opened the door more and quickly realized she was not alone—the furry thing was sitting in her lap.

"Jack," he whined. He wasn't sure where to start—getting attached to the animal he refused to take care of—or going outside in the dead of night on her own.

"She seemed like she could use some company too," Jack said quietly.

He stiffened, realizing her voice had that waver he didn't like. He glanced down at her for a second, trying to gauge how emotional she was and how to best approach it.

"You want more company?"

She looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy, and nodded. He gave a nod and sat down beside her, wincing a little from his knee. He settled on his butt beside her and rested his elbows against his raised knees. He looked at her, watching her pet the sleeping ball of fluff in her lap. She was practically drowning in one of his other USMC hoodies.

He couldn't help but feel a little nervous as to why she was feeling down. He had his guesses—she'd been through a lot, and they'd dealt with those emotions before. Still, last he'd seen her she'd fallen asleep in his arms after some—what he considered—to be pretty elating sex.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked quietly.

She pursed her lips, seeming to debate before she leaned her side closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

"I was fine," she muttered. "Woke up, needed to go to the bathroom. Then I started to think...and I couldn't sleep again. Faith popped into my head and I just..." she took a deep breath, "I didn't want to wake you. I heard the kitten and I—I couldn't leave it on it's own."

He wrapped an arm around her, watching her pet it. It's thin white hairs were peppering his hoodie and her pajama bottoms.

"Jack?"

She turned her head up a little to look at him.

"You can _always_ wake me."

"You'd never get any sleep," she said with a nervous laugh, clearly struggling to keep her emotions at bay.

"You," he said pointedly, "you are more important."

She burrowed her head more into his shoulder and he squeezed her a little closer.

"And people say you're a hard-ass," she said with another laugh, emotion even more evident in her voice.

"That's 'cause I'm not sleepin' with 'em," he said with a chuckle.

"They're missin' out," she replied, looking up and giving him a watery smile.

He gave a smile in return, studying her. He hated seeing tears on her face. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and kept his head there, hearing her breath shudder.

"It's okay," he soothed.

She burrowed her head into his neck and he heard the quiet gasp escape as she let herself cry. He glanced down, seeing the kitten poke it's head up from her movement, stretching a little and crawling out of her lap when her legs shifted. It perched itself next to her, looking up at them curiously. He glared at it.

He closed his eyes as her whole body seemed to sink into his, relying fully on him for support. He gave her what he could, keeping both of his arms around her while she trembled against him. He wished he could will all of his strength to her as he waited, wished he could help her find the peace she needed. He knew what it was like to wrestle with his own dark and emotional demons.

When her crying gradually decreased, finally coming to an end, he pressed another kiss to her head.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Let's get inside."

He helped her up, realizing his blood supply was a little cut off from sitting down on the hard surface of the porch for an extended period of time.

He was almost glad she was distracted by the cat so that he could let his legs get their feeling back again, worried they'd actually give out under him if he tried to move too much.

"Thanks for sittin' with me," she said to the cat in a soft voice, bending down to scratch its head. It closed its eyes as she rubbed her fingers around its neck, clearly enjoying the attention. "You're so cute."

He felt a ping of jealousy, which he immediately realized was ridiculous.

She stood back up and looked at him now.

"You too," she said, smiling and pecking his cheek.

He couldn't help but smile. When she leaned back away from his face he stopped her, wiping away the tears from her face with his thumbs.

"Cute too," he complimented back in a gruff tone as he lowered his hands, feeling embarrassed by the cheesy sentiment.

"You're right, we probably should get back inside. You must be pretty cold, your cheeks are bright red."

He looked away from her teasing, knowing look, feeling embarrassed and annoyed. She grabbed his hand and tugged him beside her to the door, pausing as she looked down.

"I feel bad leaving it out here on its own..."

"He'll be fine," he groaned.

"She."

He rolled his eyes at the correction and opened the door, dragging her in, seeing white fur whiz past his feet and start trying to make it's way up the stairs. He groaned and cursed under his breath while Jack chuckled. He glared at her and her laughter stopped as she looked back at him. She cleared her throat and darted forward.

"Come on, you," she said, scooping up the creature before it made it too far. "Gibbs probably has a rule about inside pets, and he really likes following his rules."

He watched as she placed the thing back outside and closed the door before it could get back in. She turned and gave him an apologetic look before they both made their way upstairs.

* * *

He was glad to see the cat gone in the morning, hoping it found somewhere else it wanted to live.

What he wasn't glad about was when he got home and realized it was back, and that he could tell Jack was secretly excited about.

What he wasn't glad about was the can of tuna he found the next morning on his porch, to which Jack explained it was tiny and alone and needed food and she refused to be responsible for it starving.

What he wasn't glad about was when he realized he had officially lost the battle days later, when he arrived to his porch that now contained a tiny, soft cat bed, a little food bowl, and a whole case of canned cat food sitting in the corner of his porch.

But at that point he accepted the loss, not bringing it up or arguing with Jack—because he saw how happy the thing made her. He half wondered if she was channeling her unfulfilled maternal instincts into taking care of it. He could tell that night that she'd somehow connected her grief over giving up Faith with the furry thing.

What scared him most was when the thought crossed his mind that he'd give her another baby if she wanted one—a thought he was more than relieved to laugh off immediately when he realized how impossible that was. He still couldn't believe that thought would ever enter his mind. He had never entertained the idea of ever having another child, _ever_. Not with a single ex, no matter how much they implied they wanted one.

Then he realized how odd it was to have a serious relationship in which pregnancy wasn't a possibility. Every woman he had been with except for Ryan had been young enough that birth control in the form of pills and condoms were just part of daily life and intimacy. With Jack it wasn't. Hot flashes and waking up in the middle of the night and never having to go on emergency tampon runs was the norm.

And then he realized just how old he was—how old he was even compared to Jack—and it irked him and made him nervous at the same time.

Many people would say he'd lived his life at this point, but he disagreed. He was still part of a team and he didn't plan to be done anytime soon. As far as his relationship with Jack was concerned, his life was just beginning.

* * *

"She's just like you," Jack said, pulling him out of his thoughts one night.

"Hm?"

"The cat," she said. "I think it's partially what attracted me to it in the first place."

He gave her a bewildered look, not sure what the hell she was on about now.

They were sitting on their new porch swing, something he had spent his time off building himself. He refused to have the cat in the house, and she had casually mentioned one night how she was thinking she may buy a porch swing in order to hang out with the thing comfortably outside. Then he decided there was no reason in buying one when he could make his own sensible one. He'd done it before.

The cat had been around for three weeks now, and they still referred to the creature as "it" or "she" or "the cat". He still wasn't fond of it, but Jack had claimed it and there was no way it was ever going away now. He'd wanted to rip off Torres' head the other day when he referred to Gibbs as a "cat owner". He refused to accept that he 'owned' a cat. Just because Jack claimed a stray cat didn't mean he was in any way responsible for it.

"She glares just like you. Her eyes are just as blue and intense as yours. She has a lot of white fur that looks like your hair, though mixed with gray patches too."

He glared at her, not liking that he was being compared to a _cat_.

"See? Like that. She glares at me like that when I keep her from going in the house."

"It's a cat," he muttered, annoyed when he looked down at the ridiculously innocent little thing in her lap.

"I think she deserves a fitting name. Like Leroy, or Jethro, or Gibbsy."

He gave her a hard glare. There was no way in hell that thing would share a name with him. Especially not _Gibbsy_. He guaranteed he would make it disappear, no matter how much she loved it or how stupidly cute it looked.

"No," he said loudly, annoyed by the smirk on her face.

"But they fit."

"It's a girl," he muttered, looking away. He rolled his eyes when he heard her laughing quietly.

"I'm just teasing," she assured, rubbing his knee soothingly. "There's only room for one Gibbs around here."

His next words slipped out of his mouth before he even processed them in his head.

"Just room for one?"

She froze, and he saw realization hit her. She slowly looked up at him.

He honestly wasn't prepared himself for what he had implied, yet he felt strangely comfortable with it.

"What are you..." she whispered in surprise, trailing off.

He shrugged, trying to sort his own thoughts a little bit. He also knew it was too soon for what he'd just asked in that round about way, and he didn't want to send her running. It had taken him long enough just to get her comfortable with staying for more than a night.

"I mean, room for one person in this house," he backtracked. "Just venturin'. Ya practically live here already. Could give you a little more closet space."

The tenseness of her body relaxed and she let out a breath of relief.

"Plus, if you're plannin' on keepin' this damn cat around here forever, someone's gonna need to live here who wants to take care of it."

He could tell she didn't totally buy his backtrack, and he was grateful that she wasn't pressing it—because he could tell he had scared her, and he'd honestly scared himself.

"You sure you want me to live with you, Cowboy?" she asked, quirking a playful eyebrow up at him.

"Wouldn't have letcha hang around here these past few months if I didn't."

He watched her take a few moments to think.

"It would be nice to stop paying that ridiculous amount of rent every month," she said to herself, her hand starting to move rhythmically on his thigh while she processed. "And then I'd have all of my stuff and you in the same place."

"That a yes?"

"I don't know," she said in a mock dramatic voice. "I'm a high maintenance girl, ya know. I'm gonna need a room for my own office."

"Done."

"And I might want to move some of my own furniture in. Maybe redecorate a bit."

"Whatever you want."

She looked at him in surprise, not seeming to expect his completely serious responses. He shrugged at her look.

"All I need is you, half the bed, and the basement. Do whatever you want with the rest."

"What if I ask for the basement?"

"Then it's over between us," he deadpanned.

She bit her lip, trying to contain a smile.

"I guess I can let you have your basement then," she said with a dramatic sigh. "Yes. I'd love to move in with you."

She pulled him in for a kiss, giving him a warm smile before she snuggled into his side and closed her eyes. He smiled down at the sight, his arm protectively wrapped around her, keeping her secure against him. He was just glad that she seemed to be at peace, because she made him feel at peace.

"It's gonna be a full house now," she said quietly. "You and that boat now have me and lil' Junior Gibbsy here to disturb the peace."

He cursed under his breath while she laughed and insisted she was joking. He threatened the life of the creature in a grumble.

"Fine!" she laughed out, her hand absentmindedly going higher on his thigh and distracting him for a moment.

"We'll go with mittens or snowball or whiskers, or something boring and normal like that," she chuckled. "Or maybe Foxy, since you won't ever accept your 'Fox' title."

He grumbled again, glaring hard at the pesky creature when her hand retreated his thigh in order to scratch the cat's ears while she cooed at it.

Yup. His stance hadn't changed at all since the day the thing arrived on his doorstep. All cats were tiny little assholes.

And intrusive.

And selfish.

But this particular one made Jack smile, and in the end her happiness was all he cared about. So if that meant buying cat food and having some prissy furry thing take over his porch, then so be it. But it wasn't allowed in the house. That territory was now his and hers, and it was not going to intrude there.

"So..." he muttered, nuzzling his nose down in her hair and brushing his lips against her temple. She stilled, completely alert to him.

"Now that you're officially movin' in, ya wanna christen the house?" he whispered, brushing his lips farther down her face.

"Any room in particular?" she whispered back.

"All of it," he growled, enjoying her giggle and the way she squirmed under his lips.

She pulled the kitten out of her lap and placed it down, turning the attention of her hands on him as they both got up and stumbled into the house as they kissed, laughing together at the ridiculousness of it.

He shot a victorious look at the furry creature that was glaring at him from the porch as he shut the door, letting it disappear from his mind completely when he turned his attention back to kissing the life out of his new roommate.


End file.
